Because I Don't Love You
by sajantha
Summary: What if Elizabeth had not responded to Darcy's proposal by mentioning Jane, Bingley, or Wickham, but only referred to her own feelings in an attempt to make the uncomfortable episode end as quickly as possible? In this version, when asked why he was rejected with 'so little endeavor at civility', she gave the most honest answer: "It is quite simple. I do not love you."
1. Chapter 1

To Elizabeth's utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In a hurried manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began –

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority - of its being a degradation - of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

In spite of her deeply rooted dislike she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, and though her intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavors, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favorable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the color rose into her cheeks.

How could she possibly reply to such a proposal and such insults? Blood pulsed through her head while thoughts crowded it. She could only settle on one – she wanted to get away from this man as fast as possible.

"I am truly sorry to give you pain, sir, but I cannot accept. Surely those feelings which have long prevented this acknowledgement of your regard will prevail, and your disappointment will be of short duration."

She pressed her lips together and stared at him, hoping he would silently turn and walk away as he had in so many other social settings. But Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth's feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said -

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

Complaints of civility! From a man who had just made such a speech! Elizabeth's head pounded and tears of both frustration and rage threatened to spill. More than anything she wanted to throw his many sins into his face, and demand that he defend his behavior to Jane, Bingley, and Mr. Wickham. But again the thought flashed through her head that the best answer would be the one which ended this interview as soon as possible.

"It is quite simple. I do not love you."

Darcy stared, and opened his mouth but then closed it again.

Reluctantly Elizabeth continued. "Would you prefer that I accepted you despite this, for your fortune? You would be trapped with a wife who neither loved nor respected you. You have made no attempt to win my heart, sir, nor have you ever given me any indication that you thought my heart worth winning. Our entire acquaintance has been defined by your insults to me, from publicly insulting my looks at the Meryton assembly to insulting my family and breeding today."

Darcy blushed at the memory of his words at the assembly, but then narrowed his eyes. Could she not see the integrity of his proposal? The honesty with which he had laid his heart bare? Could she really expect him to rejoice in the inferiority of her connections?

In a foreboding voice he began. "Miss Bennet. I –"

"The truth is, sir, you have had a very narrow escape, one which I encourage you to think on before attempting to make love to any other lady. Because only a fortune hunter would have accepted such a – a hurtful and ungentlemanlike proposal."

She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, looking at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. Mortified herself at the way her voice had broken, and at the tears which now threatened to spill, she stood up, whispered "Excuse me, sir" and fled the room.


	2. Chapter 2

While Elizabeth sat and cried in her room, Darcy walked out of the house and down the path leading back to Rosings, staring ahead with unseeing eyes. Elizabeth's words reverberated in his head: "I do not love you…a wife who neither loved nor respected you…such a hurtful and ungentlemanlike proposal."

His heart physically hurt with a combination of mortification, anger, loss, and another emotion he could not quite define. A narrow escape indeed! He must have been mad, temporarily mad, to march over to Hunsford and make such an offer to such a woman. Yet Darcy felt uncomfortably that his heart persisted in regretting her. He should have been thanking God that she refused – thanking God that this entire months-long agony of indecision was finally over. He had offered and she had refused. Because she did not love him. Did not love or even respect him.

The last phrase gave him strength and he flung his head back as he continued to stride towards Rosings. If she found nothing in him to respect or admire then he was better free of her. Clearly she knew nothing about him – he had greatly exaggerated her powers of perception and intelligence in his own mind. Holding onto his insult from the Meryton assembly was clear proof of that. He had made so many overtures since then! She was the only one he honored with a dance at Bingley's ball, the only one he had offered to accompany at the simpleminded knight's house or walked with in Rosings' groves. Did she not see the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to him at the ball? Did she realize what she had just thrown away? She was obviously not the woman he had created in his mind, and he congratulated himself on his escape, ignoring the niggling feeling in the corner of his brain that said otherwise.

Entering Rosings, he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he had not done since he was a boy. He entered his suite, waved his valet off, and poured himself a whiskey. Sipping and staring out the window, he knew Richard was at his door by his footsteps before he even knocked.

"Enter!" he called out harshly, and Richard Fitzwilliam walked inside.

"Darcy, are you okay? Will you not join us downstairs?"

"No Richard, I find myself too tired for company tonight." Darcy spoke without turning around.

Richard eyed Darcy's back, recognizing that something was very wrong. Darcy's fastidious sense of propriety would not usually allow him to stay in his rooms while the house had guests.

"That is unfortunate, since I will be imposing my company on you anyway." He walked over to a chair with a view of Darcy's face and sat down firmly. He watched as Darcy ignored him and poured another two fingers into his glass and downed them quickly.

"Unusual amount of drinking for you. Special occasion?" Richard said dryly.

"Very," Darcy replied tersely.

"Let me join you then! What are we celebrating?" Richard turned a glass right-side up and reached for the bottle.

"The rejection of my marriage proposal."

Richard's eyes widened and he dropped the whiskey bottle, which fortunately fell back onto the table.

"Good God man!"

Darcy shook his head. "I shouldn't have said it, I'm sorry."

"No…no, you should always feel free to tell me anything…" Richard trailed off, furiously searching his mind for possibilities.

Darcy looked at his furrowed eyebrows wryly. "It was Miss Bennet."

"Good _God_ man!" Richard gasped.

"Yes, you mentioned that already." Darcy turned his back and stared out the window in the direction of Hunsford, though nothing was visible through the trees.

"I…I'm sorry, I'm only…" Richard sputtered trying to gain his bearings. "She rej – she declined? An offer of marriage from _you_?" He suddenly sat up and his voice dropped. "Good Lord man, what did you _do_?"

Darcy spun around. "What a night it is for insulting me!" he cried. "What did I _do_? What did _I_ do? I only made an offer that any women in England would die to receive, to be my wife and Mistress of Pemberley, and had it thrown back in my face! And you ask me what I did to deserve such treatment!" He sat and slammed down his empty glass as if he was angry, but his face twisted in pain and he dropped his head into his hand.

Richard leaned back and observed his cousin and closest friend thoughtfully. He knew Darcy better than anyone, knew his unique mixture of virtues and faults. He felt sure that no woman in her right mind would reject the chance to be Mistress of Pemberley without some great cause, but now was not the time to discuss Miss Bennet.

"I'm sorry Darcy, you are right." He learned forward and clapped his hand onto Darcy's shoulder, and said quietly "I am truly sorry."

At this sign of sympathy Darcy's eyes welled up, to his horror. Blinking quickly he managed to keep the tears from overflowing and he raised his head to look into Richard's eyes. "Thank you Richard."

Richard nodded, and then paused before saying "I find in trying times that staying active is better than sitting and thinking. It is too late to go out, so let us try a few rounds of billiards."

Darcy opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it. "Yes, let's."

In silent agreement the men directed their steps towards the servants' staircase to avoid Lady Catherine and her guests. They came upon a maid startled at seeing gentlemen in the servant's area, but Richard laid his finger on his lips, winked, and led Darcy passed the blushing maid to the billiards room, where he racked while Darcy watched.

Darcy took the first break, and they played three full games before either one spoke.

"She gave me her reasons for refusing me." Darcy broke the silence after almost two hours as he set up the fourth game.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"They must have been many."

"Four, I think...yes, four."

"I see."

"Shall I list them for you?"

"Certainly, but please do not feel as though you must."

Darcy paused, then said in a tight voice "I must or I feel I shall explode."

Richard sat on the edge of the table and gestured for him to continue.

Darcy sighed, held up his left hand with his palm facing away and his thumb folded in, and touched each of the remaining fingers with his right forefinger as he counted them off. "I am insulting, hurtful, _ungentlemenlike_ … but most importantly – she does not love me."


	3. Chapter 3

**EngLitLover, LoveToRead613, and Eos-fiordineve: Your comments inspired me to change the last paragraph of this chapter! I don't have this entire story laid out yet so I'm enjoying the ride. Thanks!**

Elizabeth lay on the bed, all her tears spent. She had cried for her own embarrassment at her treatment by Darcy, her anger for Jane and Bingley, and her fear for her own future. "Am I only to receive offers from men who degrade me?!" she thought furiously. "Or gentle excuses from second sons who cannot afford to choose me! At every turn I am told how worthless I am by gentleman of marrying age. This cannot be other women's experience when they come out. Why me?!"

She heard Charlotte and Maria and her cousin moving around downstairs, returning from Rosings. She knew Charlotte had gone into her marriage with few expectations and found herself to be reasonably happy, in charge of her own home and with the respect that marriage afforded her. Elizabeth had been horrified at her friend's decision, but what were her own prospects after all? She had been out for five years and received only two humiliating proposals. In a few more years she would need to put on the spinster's cap. Still, she could not find it in her heart to regret her response. "What would it be like," she wondered, "to be married to a man who thought so little of me? To a man ashamed of me and of my connections? How could _he_ even wish for such a thing? How did he imagine our life together, as unequal as we are in his eyes?"

But then she thought of the passionate look in his eyes when he said "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." He truly felt for her, and wanted her, and was devastated at her refusal. Or was it just hurt pride? No, there was genuine pain in his face when he received her refusal. But then his words! Would a man truly in love say such painful and insulting things to his beloved's face? What kind of love makes no allowance for the feelings of the one loved? "Oh I am going 'round in circles!"

She moved off of the bed and splashed some water in her face. In the glass she could see her red eyes and pale cheeks – anyone seeing her face would know something was wrong. A gentle knock sounded on her door. "Lizzy, are you feeling better?"

"Yes Charlotte" she called softly through the door, "but I think I need to keep sleeping until morning."

"I am glad to hear it," came Charlotte's affectionate voice. "I will talk to you in the morning. Sleep well."

"Sleep well Charlotte." Elizabeth smiled slightly, her tear-soaked cheeks stretching uncomfortably. There was so much inside her, so many things she needed to say that she could not burden her dear friend with. Charlotte needed to support her husband and position by continuing to defer to everyone at Rosings, and she had already seen the tired look on Charlotte's face after a long night of being lectured by Lady Catherine. She would never say anything to Mr. Darcy, but it would be yet another thing for her to hold inside. The least Elizabeth could do was give her friend one less thing to bite her tongue about.

So much to say…her mind suddenly went back to a memory of sitting and reading in her father's study with her little legs sticking straight out in front of her and watching him seal a letter and then fling it into the flames.

"Why did you do that Papa? You just finished that letter!"

"Sometimes my dear, as enjoyable as it might be to send a letter, it is better to leave some things unsaid. But you know your Papa, he can never let a folly go unnoticed. So I wrote this letter to my cousin Collins telling him exactly what I thought of him, and enjoyed the experience immensely. The letter has served its purpose."

Elizabeth moved quickly to the table and found her writing desk. Pulling out a sheet of paper she paused, and then began "It was not merely my feelings about you as a marriage partner upon which my rejection is founded. Long before I even came to Hunsford my opinion of you was decided when I observed your contempt for your friend's interest in my sister…" She wrote furiously, crossing the paper on both sides and continuing onto the next. Jane's sadness, Wickham's prospects, Darcy's treatment of her neighbors and friends, all took their turn. In reverse order she delineated every reason she had for thinking ill of him, ending with his behavior at that first Meryton assembly. "I know I am not a great beauty like Jane, and I am aware that our little society and country fashions are not what you are used to. But what reason had you to begin by offending a young lady who had done nothing to you? Must you constantly disdain the feelings of others? Can you not see that morality is about more than proper behavior; it is about truly caring about the well-being of all those around you. Until you do, I fear you cannot ever truly love – or be loved."

Elizabeth started back and she read her last few words. True, perhaps, but also exceedingly harsh. Her father was right when he said that some things were better left unsaid. She felt calmed by her experience of 'having her say' and now began to see that her behavior was also wrong. Had she not thought herself very clever in mocking Mr. Darcy's behavior to his face, he would never have mistaken her banter for interest in himself.

"I shall probably never see him again," she thought. "But if I do, I will be ready to say what I need to gently and calmly – for Jane and for Wickham." She carried her letter over to the fire and read it over once – twice – and held it above the flames, but could not let it go. After a moment, she withdrew her hand, placed the letter in the bottom of her writing desk, and went to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear Followers & Reviewers: I am overwhelmed! Thank you so much for your thoughts on my first ever published fanfic. Also, please go back and reread the last paragraph of chapter three because it has *changed*. **

_"_ _She gave me her reasons for refusing me." Darcy sighed, held up his left hand with his palm facing away and his thumb folded in, and touched each of the remaining fingers with his right forefinger as he counted them off. "I am insulting, hurtful, ungentlemenlike … but most importantly – she does not love me."_

There was a long pause while both men stared, ridiculously, at Darcy's pinky finger.

Richard finally broke the silence. "What a woman."

Darcy flinched, and Richard immediately put up his hands. "I'm sorry Darcy! That is obviously not what you need to hear right now."

Darcy shook his head. "No, I, too, want you to be free to say anything to me… Still, your reaction surprises me. _My_ response was quite the opposite – I am quickly learning to regret my inclination towards her." Inwardly he cringed at the lie in his words, but he kept his voice scornful.

Richard studied him, remembering that Elizabeth's other reasons were 'insulting, hurtful, and ungentlemanlike'. He loved Darcy like a brother, but also knew that his character had been influenced by how the world treated him – and not for the better. When one is constantly lauded, petted, pampered, and treated like a prize by everyone else, it is easy to start believing them. Perhaps this pain would be the making of Darcy – but only if he faced the reality of what he had just lost.

"No? It is as you say, what woman would turn down the chance to be Mistress of Pemberley? To be the most prominent woman in Derbyshire and on the arm of one of the most sought-after men in London? But she turned you down for the most principled reason. She wants to marry only where she feels true affection for her husband." Richard spoke slowly and clearly, watching Darcy carefully.

Darcy snorted, picked up his cue, and took another shot on the billiards table. "Clearly you admire Miss Bennet as well, and she certainly enjoys your company. Perhaps you should offer for her."

"I already told her I could not."

Darcy swung around so fast his cue got entangled in Lady Catherine's lavish draperies and clattered onto the ground. " _What?!_ "

"I encountered her as I was making my round of the park earlier today. I had paid her so much attention I did not want to leave her with false hope…in the course of our walk I mentioned that as a younger son I did not feel I could afford to marry without some attention to money."

"Exactly!" Darcy bit out. "A country miss with inferior connexions, a deplorable family, no dowry, a family state entailed away – she has no other prospects!"

"Which makes her rejection of your offer on principle all the more remarkable."

Darcy's jaw tightened. "You seem determined to praise her and her choices tonight. Forgive me but I think it's time for me to retire."

Richard stood and blocked Darcy as he attempted to walk out of the room. "No Darcy, that's not it. I hold you to be one of the best men I've ever met. Miss Bennet has lost a lot tonight, but so have you. You need to acknowledge that instead of slandering her to ease your pain."

"I'm not slandering her, I'm only stating facts!"

"Facts! Yes, true statements all. And I supposed you outlined these facts as part of your proposal?" Richard drawled. "Insulting and hurtful indeed!"

"I was honest and truthful – are these not generally held to be virtues?! My scruples at aligning myself with such a family were natural and just!"

"Scruples that Mr. Collins certainly stated to her in his proposal! Can you not hold yourself to a higher standard than that man?!" Richard snapped.

Darcy started in surprise at the rare picture of Richard losing his temper. Then his words sunk in. "Collins proposed to her. That – that – " Words failed him as his mind filled with ideas about how to call a man out for making a reasonable proposal to a lady completely unconnected to himself. Then his mind went to the horror he would have felt seeing them together. Collins married to Elizabeth (for to him, it was and had been only 'Elizabeth' for some time). Elizabeth meekly nodding along to Lady Catherine's strictures and living in the little parsonage. Elizabeth coming to greet him on his arrival in Hunsford with the frill of a mob cap framing her face and curls. "How do you know?"

Richard smirked, his good humor returned. "Your scowl gets you out of many predicaments by intimidating people, but you also lose the chance to collect information from them. Collins told me as he was showing off his vegetable patch. Apparently he proposed to Miss Bennet out of the goodness of his heart to save her family from the entail. Mother insisted she accept, father took her side, and he eventually retracted his proposal and applied for Miss Lucas's hand three days later. Quite the romantic he is."

Silently thanking Mr. Bennet for rousing himself to be a parent for once, Darcy asked "And he told you about his proposal?"

"In detail! He had no compunctions in exposing himself, his wife, or Miss Bennet to a stranger." Richard wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Apparently he calmly explained to Miss Bennet that he knew she was penniless but promised never to reproach her for it – never after his proposal one assumes – and also told her that her initial rejection wouldn't hold because she was unlikely to receive any other offers. It took several rejections to finally sink into his thick head."

Darcy pondered this information for a minute, and then looked up. "And this is the man you compare me to." It was a statement, not a question.

"Not in anything else, dear God, no. But in how you approached a lady you thought worthy of being your wife – yes."

"I see."

"Think on it man. I cannot imagine the pain you are feeling right now, but there are at least two important lessons I can see you need to learn from this exp-"

"Excuse me sirs." The maid they had encountered in the servants' stairwell dipped a hurried curtsey. "My Lady heard some noise from below and calls you to join the party downstairs."

Richard nodded to her and watched her scurry away before he picked up the dropped cue and hung it on the wall. "I'll make your apologies Darcy. Go and do something – read, walk, anything. We can talk tomorrow." He started to walk out of the room but was called back.

"And my two lessons?"

Richard paused with his back to Darcy, then said before he left "The second I will leave for you to discover. The first is to think on the following: She said she could not marry you for lack of love, and that surprised you. Was winning her love even an object to you?"


	5. Chapter 5

Having tossed and turned all night, Darcy finally gave up on sleep when he saw the windows begin to brighten. Elizabeth as the wife of Collins… Elizabeth soundly rejecting himself… he could not decide which thought was worse. And both thoughts had kindly taken turns tormenting him all night. He quietly rose and dressed himself for once, as he did not even want the human contact of his valet, and went to the stables. A yawning stable-boy quickly saddled Bellerophon and Darcy swung on after a quick pat down the nose. As he rode towards the lightening horizon he finally admitted to himself that there was a third issue that hurt even worse, deep down where he had tried to bury it by concentrating on slightly less painful thoughts.

Richard's parting words echoed in his head: " _She said she could not marry you for lack of love, and that surprised you. Was winning her love even an object to you?"_ Unbelievably it had not. Every single thought had been of himself. He had agonized as his attraction to her wrestled with his disgust of her family's behavior. He had avoided paying her too much attention in Meryton for fear of becoming the prisoner of raised expectations. He had carefully met her on her walks to sound out her thoughts and opinions and judge if she would make a suitable wife. He had spent hours, days, weeks, trying to make up his mind about whether he should bestow upon her the honor of being his wife. And in all that time, he had never once attempted to win her trust, respect, or affection.

Moreover, the necessity of doing so had never even occurred to him! For all that he hated the adulation that London misses and mamas gave him, he had come to see it as his due. He had admired Elizabeth because she was different from those women, yet expected her to respond to a proposal exactly as they would. And though he hated that they would accept him merely for his fortune and position, he was now furious at Elizabeth for not being a fortune-hunter!

"Hypocrite!" Darcy muttered out loud, startling himself with the sound of his own voice in the surrounding stillness. Bellerophon perked up his ears and Darcy leaned forward to stroke the side of his neck. "Not you, Bellow," he murmured, using the nickname the foal had earned with his high-pitched squeals of indignation when broken to bit and bridle.

Suddenly his eye caught a glimpse of color flashing through the trees to his far right. He realized that he had unconsciously steered his way towards Hunsford and whipped his head around at the thought of seeing Elizabeth on a walk. Peering through the foliage, he suddenly felt something crash into his left cheek.

* * *

Elizabeth had woken in only a slightly better mood than the previous night. She quietly dressed herself but could not reach the 3 buttons on the middle of her back, so instead of her usual spencer she slipped a wide shawl around her shoulders to wear until she could speak to Charlotte's maid-of-all-work. Charlotte smiled at her as she took her place at the breakfast table.

"You are up very early Charlotte! I hope everything is well."

"I have found that rising with the sun helps me to keep up with all of my work," said Charlotte, wryly glancing at Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled at the unspoken statement that Mr. Collins's conversations were distractions the young homemaker could not afford while she planned her day. "I am glad to see you Lizzy. Is your head-ache gone?" She eyed Elizabeth's pale complexion and the dark smudges under her eyes. "You still seem unwell though. Do have some more breakfast."

"Yes, thank you Charlotte. I think fresh air will help as well." Elizabeth paused as she filled her plate, and then asked "How was your evening at Rosings? I hope Lady Catherine was not angry at you for my absence."

"No, she accepted Mr. Collin's apologies. She was far more upset at Mr. Darcy's absence."

Elizabeth's hands stilled. "Oh?"

"Yes, she was extremely upset that Mr. Darcy disappeared soon after we arrived, and a few hours later Colonel Fitzwilliam disappeared as well! The evening quite revolved around her ill-treatment at the hands of her nephews." Charlotte paused and eyed Elizabeth who kept her eyes focused on her plate. She had seen Mr. Darcy's face when Elizabeth had not walked into the Rosings parlor beside her, and watched his jaw clench when Collins started to grovel his apologies to Lady Catherine about the ungratefulness of his young cousin. Watching him slip out of the room not ten minutes later, she had been sure Mr. Darcy was going to visit with her friend. After a few minutes of silence, she took pity on Elizabeth and changed the subject.

"It is a beautiful day Lizzy. I know you will not want to postpone your morning walk, but I have some visits to the neighbors I need to make in the afternoon if you will accompany me?"

"Indeed, especially if we can stop by Miss Tilney. She is a delightful lady."

"Yes, I have a basket for her. Now do not stay out in the sun too long and get another head-ache Lizzy."

"I will not, I have learned my lesson." Elizabeth smiled, patted Charlotte's hand, and left the house tying on her bonnet. As she did she recalled, as she always did when putting on a bonnet, her fights with her mother over that article of clothing. Elizabeth always wanted to feel the sun and wind on her face and hated how her bonnet cut off her view to the sides, which horrified her mother. "Mr. Bennet this child will be so dark no one will take her when she comes out! I will not support you when your father goes Miss Lizzy, you shall reap what ungrateful children always do." Her old nanny had finally convinced her to wear it by telling her to use her bonnet rim to frame beautiful pictures as she roamed the countryside. As Elizabeth entered the gates into Rosings land, she turned her head enjoying the fresh beauty around her and, as Nanny had said, looking to frame the perfect picture. Suddenly she heard a crash and a cry of pain.

 **Author's Note: So happy at all the interest! 41 review, 187 followers, 3k readers and 10k views! If I haven't responded to your review yet I will, and thank you everyone for your support!**

 **Don't worry, Darcy is too good a horseman to fall off of his horse, and while I enjoy amnesia JAFF I have no interest in writing one :-)**

 **Btw, as a American-Sri Lankan (hi four Sri Lankan readers! *waves*) I know how racist the basis of Mrs. Bennet's comments are, but they are also period appropriate. And for South Asians, still often heard today :-/ I was inspired by Laura Ingalls Wilder's accounts of how she hated to wear her bonnet as a child & young woman.**


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth started running towards the noise, convinced that someone was hurt. Within a few seconds she saw a gentleman half-hanging off of his horse and slowly pulling himself up again. When he turned his head she experienced a jolt as their eyes met. "Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy was embarrassed at his clumsiness and turned to dismount. He had one foot on the ground and one in a stirrup when a sudden wave of dizziness hit and he swayed, hanging onto the saddle. Bellerophon protested at the uneven weight and danced nervously on his feet, unbalancing Darcy enough to land him solidly on his back on the ground.

Darcy blinked into the small bit of sky visible through the treetops, but suddenly it was gone. It was replaced by an anxious face framed with curls and bonnet. "Mr. Darcy! May I help you?"

Darcy waved his arm in refusal and pushed himself up into a sitting position, thoroughly humiliated.

"You are bleeding!"

Darcy touched his forehead gingerly and looked at his red fingertips. "'Tis nothing," he said gruffly, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief in vain.

Elizabeth quickly found a handkerchief and pressed it into his hand. "I am sure it is not. What happened? I heard a cry…"

Darcy was too humiliated to tell her that he had ridden into a tree branch like a young child, but could not think of any other explanation. "I was…not looking ahead," he muttered, gesturing up at the low branch.

Elizabeth looked up, then down biting her lip. He watched in fascination as her color rose and her mouth twisted. Then suddenly their eyes met and she broke out into an infectious laugh.

"Oh! Pray forgive me Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth. "I am not laughing at your injuries. I only…"

"Yes?" Darcy inquired, enjoying her smile too much to be offended. He tried to push himself off the ground but a sharp pain in his arm caused it to buckle and he fell back down on the seat of his pants. He looked up to find a small hand extended towards him, Elizabeth's face solemn except for her twinkling eyes. He looked at her bare hand, wishing he was not wearing gloves either, and then gently clasped it with his good arm and allowed Elizabeth to help him to a standing position.

"There is a large rock over there, behind that copse, where you might sit for a while." Elizabeth gestured to their left.

"Yes, I know it." Darcy reached for Bellerophon's reins and the three silently made their way to the boulder.

"Let me see now," Elizabeth said, ignoring her discomfort in favor of concern about his wound. She took the handkerchief from his hand and dabbed at his forehead. "This cut is not large. It should not leave a scar."

Darcy closed his eyes for a minute and imagined that Elizabeth had accepted his proposal. They had met here in the park, illicitly, to steal a few moments alone together. She was petting his brow and in a moment he could place his hands on either side of her face and… He shook his head. Time to wake up from ridiculous dreams of what could never be. "Thank you," he said abruptly, moving away.

Her hand fell away from his face. "Yes, of course," she said uncertainly.

He watched her face close off and could not bear it. If this was the last time they ever saw each other, he had to leave her with a better impression than he had made so far! "I thank you for your help. My head feels quite a bit better." He gently took the handkerchief from her hand and held it to his forehead.

Elizabeth smiled. "But do you forgive me for laughing?!"

Darcy stared at her, then felt his own lips curving into a smile. It was an unusual feeling – his lips felt unnaturally stretched. Had it been so long since he smiled that he no longer knew how?

Elizabeth stared at Darcy's face. Handsome before, his smile transformed his face into being almost unbearably good looking. "It is good he does not smile more or ladies would simply be struck dumb in company," flitted through her head.

"You see," she continued, "I remembered how Miss Bingley would boast of your fine horsemanship, and..." she trailed away. Would he be insulted? No, his smile only grew, though it turned a bit ironic. "Yes, Miss Bingley is well versed in all of my talents. More than myself, I dare say."

They stared at each other for a second, foolishly smiling, until Darcy suddenly recalled himself. He shook his head. "I should go back to Rosings."

"Yes, rest! But first…your arm."

Darcy looked down, then experimentally moved his left arm. "It is not materially damaged."

"But it does hurt. Here, use this for a sling to give it a chance to rest." Elizabeth pulled her shawl off and tied it around Darcy's neck. When she bent to reach behind his neck to tie it her neck and chest came towards his face, and he caught a glimpse of softness before he closed his eyes. "There." Elizabeth pulled the loop down in front.

"Thank you Miss Bennet." Darcy said soberly, thinking of how they might never meet. What words could he say? What should he say given this one last chance?

Elizabeth stared at him. She wanted to say so much – to beg forgiveness for her own harshness, to scream about Jane and Bingley, to thank him for the good in the sentiments he had expressed the day before to ask him why he had to be so hurtfully insulting at the same time – to apologize for not loving him…

"Well… goodbye." At a loss for words, Elizabeth turned to walk away.

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy's voice rang out loudly.

Elizabeth turned back, glad but apprehensive. What should she say given this one last chance? She was surprised to find Darcy's face bright red.

"Yes."

"Your…your…"

"Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy straightened himself and reverted to the extreme formality he used whenever he was uncomfortable. "Madam, I regret to tell you that your – your buttons – " He couldn't finish, blushing furiously.

"Oh!" Elizabeth's face turned a matching red. How could she have forgotten to ask Charlotte or her maid to help with the middle buttons! And now she had to walk home without a shawl covering her back…

"Turn around."

"Excuse me?!"

"Turn around Miss Bennet. You cannot continue walking like that. If someone has seen us together…" Darcy trailed off uncomfortably, but Elizabeth knew exactly what he meant. Having tried to come up with a different alternative and failed, she turned around silently and ducked her head forward, blushing.

Darcy stood up and examined the back of her dress. A pale peach petticoat was peeking through the gap in her muslin gown. The buttons were covered in cloth with a tiny embroidered flower on each one. He took a breath and carefully pulled each button through its hole, his eyes lingering on her neck and the tiny escaped curls along the bottom of her bonnet.

"Thank you," murmured Elizabeth, turning her head and looking over her shoulder. Elizabeth and Darcy's eyes met and they both froze, not sure what do to next.

"Cousin Elizabeth!"

 **Thank you so much for all your kind feedback! If I haven't gotten to anyone's review by tonight then I can't reply so please log in to review in future. All your follows, favorites, and reviews definitely pulled me back to this story even though school is busy. Thanks again :-)**


	7. Chapter 7

_"_ _Thank you," murmured Elizabeth, turning her head and looking over her shoulder. Elizabeth and Darcy's eyes met and they both froze, not sure what do to next._

 _"_ _Cousin Elizabeth!"_

Elizabeth and Darcy tensed and whirled around to see the tall, heavy looking man crash through the underbrush and into the small clearing.

"Cousin Elizabeth!" Mr. Collins was, fortunately, too busy brushing the leaves off of his coat sleeves to see how close the two were, and they took the opportunity to put a decent amount of space between them. "My dear Charlotte told me you enjoy walking alone but I imagined you to be walking to and from Rosings Park. It is quite improper for a young lady of gentle birth to be walking alone through the woods. Especially with – with…" Mr. Collins trailed off as he noticed the angry look on Darcy's face.

"Not that I have any objection against you sir! I assure you, I have the highest regard for all of Lady Catherine's honored relations. But," he paused and delivered a deep bow, then lowered his voice "my young cousin does not always understand her place. If she has importuned you in any way I humbly beg your apology."

Darcy only became more furious as he saw echoes of his failed proposal in Mr. Collins's comments about Elizabeth and 'her place'. When he saw Mr. Collins reach out and grab Elizabeth's upper arm so hard she flinched, he stepped forward.

"Mr. Collins, release her at once!" he thundered, and Mr. Collins leapt back like a startled rabbit. Darcy walked towards him slowly and menacingly. "I will have you know that Miss Bennet was assisting me after I fell off of my horse." Darcy conveniently left off the fact that the sight of Elizabeth startled him off of his horse in the first place and watched Mr. Collins' eyes grow large. Pandering to the man's one true love, he added "I am greatly in her debt, and I shall inform my aunt of this fact." While Mr. Collins bowed in silent amazement, one part of Darcy's brain thought frantically for some way he could further benefit Elizabeth while the other marveled at the sight of a silent Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth hid a smile at the sight of her cousin so uncharacteristically quiet, even as she seethed at his comments about walking alone and discreetly massaged her arm. Her walks were the only thing keeping her sane, and Charlotte did not have servants enough to spare a footman whenever she desired to roam. How could she possibly survive through the rest of this visit? As she saw Mr. Collins start to open his mouth again, she intervened "Mr. Collins, I assure you there is nothing improper in my walks. My father has allowed them for several years as long I walk alone and keep to familiar ground. As you see, I only met Mr. Darcy long enough to give him a sling for his injured arm, and I would be glad to walk back to Charlotte with you."

Mr. Collins favored Elizabeth with a patronizing smile and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. "My dear Elizabeth. Your father, while an excellent man –"

"Mr. Collins!" Darcy burst out, knowing that an insult to Elizabeth's favorite parent was next. He suddenly knew what to say as if it was inspiration from above. He assumed his Master of Pemberley posture and mimicked the formal ostentatiousness of Mr. Collins' speech in his own booming voice. "It is customary for the houses of Darcy and de Bourgh to be generous to those who have served us. As thanks for Miss Bennet's act of service, I would like to bestow upon her the indissoluble right to walk alone on any Rosings land. It is a fitting gift since I would not have received her assistance otherwise."

While Mr. Collins' eyebrows disappeared under his front hair as he stammered his thanks, Elizabeth turned and looked at Darcy. She met his eyes and gazed into them for a second as if pondering something in them, and then smiled at him. It was a different smile than he had seen in the past – those smiles had mostly arisen from her joy at folly and absurdities. This was a gentle smile of appreciation, the first one he had ever received from her. It both hurt and warmed his heart to realize that guaranteeing her private walks was the first true act of kindness he had ever performed for Elizabeth. Then her smile turned into a grin and she rose (on tiptoe, to be even more absurd) to respond.

"My dear sir, I most humbly accept your gift. I shall treat the lands of de Bourgh as if they were my own, and guard them with my very life."

At the same moment it occurred to both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth to bow and curtsey, respectively, in the most pompous ways they could possibly imagine. Darcy bent far over one arm across his waist while flinging his other arm theatrically into the air. Elizabeth sank almost to the ground as if she were being presented at court, one palm against her chest while the other fluttered an imaginary fan. They straightened and looked at each other with barely repressed laughter, both amazed that Darcy was playacting in such a silly fashion. Mr. Collins looked back and forth between them unsure of what was happening. All he knew was that he could not reject a gift of Lady Catherine's nephew, as strange as the gift may be. Finally he stepped forward.

"Thank you Mr. Darcy! Your generosity is boundless, indeed it is. But I… I think I must escort my cousin back now. My wife has need of her."

"Of course Mr. Collins." Elizabeth smiled at him and gingerly took his arm. She turned back and gave Mr. Darcy one more gentle smile of thanks, and then walked away with her cousin.

Darcy stood there in the clearing for a few moments reliving the encounter in his head. The touch of her hand helping him up, the petticoat peeking through her dress, the bow and curtsey. When had he last thrown propriety to the winds and been free to be so silly! Not since he entered Cambridge, at least. Probably not since his mother died.

In that moment Darcy made up his mind. He would try again. He still didn't quite understand what had happened during his proposal, but he was not yet ready to give her up. Mentally planning how he could excuse his extended stay to Lady Catherine, he swung onto Bellerophon and rode back to the manor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** **Glad to be back and working on this story! I finished my comprehensive exam for graduate school only to throw my back out badly. This gave me a lot of time to do nothing and I found a good direction for where I want to go next with this. Btw, "Mrs. Tilney" mentioned in Chapter 5 has been changed to "Miss Tilney."**

 **I want to say that I *love* your reviews and comments and look forward to them so much. Already two small changes have been made to the plot because of reviewer suggestions. If you notice grammar or spelling mistakes or anachronisms, please be extremely precise so I know what I have to change. Thanks so much! Please R &R!**

CHAPTER EIGHT

Elizabeth walked back to the cottage on her cousin's arm, smiling and nodding to the chattering Mr. Collins while occupied by her own thoughts. Mr. Darcy's behavior when he started playacting was so strange! She had never met a gentleman who was willing to be open and vulnerable in that way. John Lucas used to happily climb trees and play pirates with her, but after his first term at Eton he had looked at her with pity in his eyes when she suggested a race to the top of their favorite climbing tree. But Darcy had thrown himself into the part of Lord of the Manor so suddenly and with such grace. "He ought to go onto the stage", she thought, smiling at the idea of proper Mr. Darcy stooping to such a disreputable profession.

More than that, he had been – kind. Very kind. He saw the panic in her face at the idea of being denied her solitary walks, and her anger when Mr. Collins had started to criticize her father. He had used his position of power to give her freedom. It was the first true act of kindness she had ever seen from him. But would there be more acts of kindness? Was her right to walk alone a parting gift, or –

"My dear, you will scarce believe what my dear cousin has gone through today!" Mr. Collins shouted as they walked up the path to the Collins' front door.

Charlotte came calmly to the front door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes, my dear?"

"Cousin Elizabeth assisted Lady Catherine's dear nephew Mr. Darcy in the woods when he fell. Because of her assistance he has granted her the indiss- the indi- the permanent right to walk alone on Darcy and de Bourgh land! Is this not a wonderful tribute to our little family?" he smiled and pushed his chest out. Charlotte, confused about the need for permission to do something they had all been doing for months, looked at Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled at her.

"Mr. Collins was concerned about my solitary walks, but Mr. Darcy laid down an edict that no one could refuse," she said, a small smile escaping. Charlotte's eyebrows raised, and she gave a small nod of understanding.

"Of course. It is an honor indeed Mr. Collins. But do come in and eat, Lizzy and I need to go and visit some neighbors."

Collins bustled ahead, eager at the thought of food, while Charlotte and Elizabeth followed.

"Is everything quite alright, Lizzy?" Charlotte asked quietly as they followed him down the hall to the dining room.

"Yes, absolutely," Elizabeth whispered, and then raised her voice before Mr. Collins noticed their private conversation. "Charlotte, who are we visiting today? I know that we planned to see Miss Tilney."

Charlotte moved around to the other side of the table to discreetly help her single maid serve. "Yes, I have the basket we prepared for Miss Tilney who is recovering from a cold. I also need to stop by and check on Mr. Vernon and his children, and Mr. Baker, and Mrs. Yates."

"Miss Tilney!" Mr. Collins shook his head and spoke through his mouthful of cottage pie. "The very idea of an unmarried lady living alone by herself. The poor dear must have some relations that could take her in."

"Miss Tilney is over five-and-sixty, Mr. Collins, with a sufficient fortune of her own. She is hardly an innocent and can well take care of herself."

"I certainly hope she is innocent!" said Mr. Collins, and then blushed bright red when Elizabeth stared at his outburst, wondering what he meant. Charlotte quickly moved the conversation to the afternoon visits.

"Elizabeth, Mr. Baker is very shy of strangers, so I perhaps you could stay at Miss Tilney's while I visit him and then we can go to Mrs. Yates together."

"Of course Charlotte," Elizabeth replied, looking carefully at Charlotte. Did she know what Elizabeth had been doing with some of her mornings? Was this her delicate way of showing approval? She knew that if her cousin found out he would be furious.

After Elizabeth and Charlotte helped Betsy clear the table, they tied on their bonnets and began walking to Mr. Vernon's cottage, each carrying two baskets of food and other supplies.

"Now Lizzy, please do tell me what Mr. Collins was going on about." Elizabeth started laughing while Charlotte looked on with a small smile at her friend's happiness. When Elizabeth finally caught her breath, she retailed the events of her morning in great detail, placing her baskets on the ground to reenact both Mr. Darcy's bow and her own court-worthy curtsey. The woods ran with the two young women's laughter as they made their way towards the cluster of de Bourgh tenant cottages.

"Mr. Vernon, are you in?" called Charlotte as she rapped at the worn wooden door almost pulling away from its frame. "This is Mrs. Collins and my friend Miss Bennet." A squeal of excitement was heard and then the two ladies could see the door being tugged but not moving.

"Hold on, lassie," a deep voice said, and the door was wrenched open. Elizabeth stepped back in alarm at the sight of the towering figure, before she noticed his kind but sad eyes.

"Mrs. Collins!" cried a small girl of no more than six years, wrapping her arms around Charlotte and burying her face in her skirt. Charlotte smiled and stroked the girl's light brown curls.

"It is good to see you May, can you show me the curtsey I taught you?"

The girl stepped back with evidence of tears on her face and made a very proper little curtsey. Charlotte curtseyed back and then said "May, this is my friend Miss Bennet."

"Miss Vernon," Elizabeth said solemnly, and she and the girl curtseyed to each other while a happy flush covered May's cheeks at being called Miss Vernon.

"Mr. Vernon, this is my dear childhood friend Miss Bennet." Elizabeth and Mr. Vernon curtseyed and bowed to each other, his bow far deeper than her curtsey, before they were all invited in.

Charlotte spoke kindly to Mr. Vernon, his silent son, and May as Elizabeth's gaze wandered around the room. The cottage was in better repair than the worst on Longbourn's estate, but not by much. Surely an estate as grand as Rosings could afford to chink the gaps in the walls and chimneys! She turned and watched Charlotte smile and speak to the children as they clustered around her, and felt a sudden pull at her own heart. Charlotte did not marry for love but she would have the chance to have children – and was perhaps even with child already.

"Did I make the right decision?" Elizabeth wondered. "If Mr. Darcy's was the last proposal I will ever receive, it was my last chance to have a family of my own." But then his hard, stern face in the Collins' parlour came back to her. She would have had to trade the Bennet family for a chance to have Darcy children who would then be raised to despise her. "No, it was the right decision," Elizabeth thought, but the memory of Darcy's behavior that morning made her internal voice a little less sure than before.

As Charlotte and Elizabeth walked away from the Vernon cottage, Charlotte explained that Mr. Vernon was a recent widower. "Oh how sad, those poor children!" Elizabeth exclaimed, thinking about Mr. Vernon's sad eyes.

"Yes, only a month ago Mrs. Vernon died and so did her babe. Mr. Vernon is an uncommonly affectionate father but the children are still desperate for a mother's love." Charlotte shook her head as they entered the small front garden of the Tilney cottage.

After a brief visit with the elderly Miss Tilney, Charlotte stood to take her leave. "Miss Tilney, I will visit Mr. Baker and return, if you would permit Miss Bennet to stay with you for a short while."

Miss Tilney raised her eyebrows in surprise, and then smiled. "Of course my dear, you do what you must. Miss Bennet and I shall have a lovely time." Charlotte took her leave and walked away from the cottage while Elizabeth, at a nod from Miss Tilney, slipped through the discreet door at the back of the main room.


End file.
